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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27771385">The Visitor</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyla/pseuds/nyla'>nyla</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abandoned Fic, Also pregnancy, F/M, Original Universe, Unfinished, actually i dont know much about star war, i have a few feelings and theories, if you critique my star war names i have one word for you: yaddle, thinly veiled fanfiction</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:21:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>822</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27771385</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyla/pseuds/nyla</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When you want to escape your past, where do you go? The edge of the universe, of course. But what happens when your past finds you, against all odds?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>OC/OC</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Visitor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>At one point I had a brief, deep interest in Star Wars. I wrote this unfinished fanfic at that time. I've since developed some criticism against Mr. Star War, but nonetheless love a good space opera. Presented, then, is a cleaned-up, cliffhanger of a work. It is at once thinly veiled fanfiction and within its own universe, though the names are very, ah, shall we say, Star Warsy. Enjoy.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Outside, she’d heard it: the rhythmic crunching of armor approaching the house. She had been drawing water for a bath, leaning over the well to catch her breath—she wasn’t used to this extra weight and, it must be said, she was more than a little out of shape. Her hair had grown frizzy in the heat, and her oversized linen garments hung limply over her distended belly and clung to sweat on her back. Their shadows reached her first, six spindly fingers grasping at her legs. But they hadn’t noticed her. Call it luck, call it the glare of the local star. But before long they had disappeared from sight, and the sound of their footsteps was replaced by pounding at the door.</p><p><br/>Sabee froze, still leaning against the well, listening. And when the bangs sounded again, she abandoned her pails of water and padded to the ladder at the back of the house. Not without difficulty, she pulled herself onto to the second-floor balcony and slipped through the curtained doorway. The room was dark. Dust drifted through the light that streamed through the lattice-covered windows, whose latches rattled with each pound of the door.</p><p><br/>Half-crouched, Sabee stepped gingerly across the room and knelt before a wooden chest beneath one of the latticed windows. Green painted tendrils betrayed a homeland far from here, this desert planet. Despite its many oases, vines of this sort, blooming with luscious red and white blooms, seemed far too domesticated for the sparsely-populated planet on the edge of the universe.</p><p><br/>The planet was itself an oasis, a sanctuary from the rest of the galaxy. It meant freedom from an old life. Nearly five years had passed since Sabee and her partner, Kip, newlyweds then, had landed on this planet, having heard from friends that others had found refuge here. And here, they became different people, adopting new names, befriending the inhabitants. And these days their neighbors were friendlier than ever, smiling and touching the rising bump of Sabee’s belly when she visited the marketplace, when she shared tea or a meal with them. They had forced her to set aside her private nature. After all, the loneliness of this part of the world can draw anyone from that habit, or deeper, depending on the circumstances. But she and Kip had been lucky. The folks here were poor but kind, and the two newcomers fell gently into their way of life.<br/>It was as she had left it—at the bottom of the chest, beneath a quilt woven by her grandmother and a satchel of emergency funds. It was beat-up, for sure, but trustworthy nonetheless. She lifted the blaster from its hiding place, now tracing its barrel, now daring a peek through the scope. Regret crept into her belly like some sick twin to accompany her unborn child. She swallowed, and in a moment she had tucked the weapon under one arm---and a broom under the other---and risen to her feet. She pressed herself against the wall and called out.</p><p><br/>“Patience, stranger---what business brings you here?”</p><p><br/>She swallowed. Aggression burned at her throat. She fought to keep her voice calm, steady.</p><p><br/>“Sabee Aldebaran. Surely you recognize me—Lieutenant Tauri Cappella,” said a man’s voice from outside. Sabee held her breath. He continued. “Though I believe I have misspoken. I’ve heard you have married since we last met. A quiet ceremony for you and Kip, I presume, Mrs. Palatina?”</p><p><br/>“Aldebaran,” Sabee said without thinking. “I didn’t take his name.”</p><p><br/>“You must be wondering why we are here. If you would kindly open the door, we may discuss it over tea.” There was a smile in his voice. And Sabee was rocking, rocking, rocking on her heels. The bristles of the broom under her arm brushed against the floor.</p><p><br/>It didn’t make any sense. What was Cappella doing here? And how had he scavenged soldiers, few in number though they were, for his purposes? And “lieutenant”--as if. Of a <em>late</em> military regime; that, she and Kip had helped make sure of, some six years ago. The man was in denial---or hopeful, or conscious of some news that hadn’t reached her here in the depths of space. What was his game?</p><p><br/>“Tea… That explains the friends, then?” Sabee called out. Whatever his reason, she would have to kill time until Kip arrived. Armed or not, she couldn’t take on Cappella and five soldiers by herself. And even from this angle, she couldn’t down more than two or three of them before they reached her. Rocking. Rocking. Rocking.</p><p><br/>“Yes, yes…” Sabee could hear his smug grin in his tone. “So why don’t you open the door, my dear, and we can discuss… a proposal.”</p><p><br/>So he came to bargain. She had been a master negotiator after all. She could play nice. In a moment Sabee was downstairs at the door, pistol concealed under her flowing layers.</p>
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